


Red Flags

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Dont worry hes a miscellaneous NPC, F/M, Manipulation, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a thousand little things that should have warned her. The Lone Wanderer has never messed up so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Flags

There are a thousand little things that should have warned her.

He had green eyes. Green fucking eyes in 2278; the odds are like a billion to zero. He didn’t smell- of anything, not blood, or sweat, or cologne to cover it, nothing. The guy was fucking scentless. There wasn’t a single scar on him but one keloid splotch on the palm of his hand and the chip in his left incisor- the hand he said from grabbing his plasma rifle by the wrong end, the tooth’s explanation a bar fight, details elided over. When he smiled (a misplaced expression that didn’t look like smiling if she covered the bottom half of his clean-shaved face) it made him look aggressive from the sharp point of it.

He spoke intelligently, interestedly, wanted to hear all of her adventures as the Lone Wanderer, and didn’t get bored when she delineated her exciting life hunting Enclave scouting parties, scavenging toasters and cameras- or whatever it was Rothchild wanted-, and slitting the wrists of supermutants for Brotherhood caps. When she went on to the uprising in the Pitt, his eyes glazed over, and she figured she’d been talking too long. He deflected personal questions, and turned the subject back to her, and that was about the time she realized all his attention was the means of getting in her pants. Hey, the guy had a damn nice face, good arms, and didn’t smell like shit, so she was down for that.

He was a good head taller than her, which was awesome, but infuriating, because she couldn’t kiss him, and he wouldn’t kiss her. They rode the elevator in silence up to his suite, and he nudged her off when she tried to palm his crotch as he unlocked the door. He glared- playfully she realized from the smirk ( _weird_ how the two halves of his face didn’t communicate)- and held the door open. She put a little extra sway in her hips as she walked past him, smiled at him over her shoulder as she unbuckled the belt holding her pistols to her hips, and dropped it to the floor.

That was a better expression on him, leaned against the locked door with the eyes narrowed and lip half-quirked up. He crossed the room in three strides (long legs, long limbs, _long fingers_ ) and unzipped her leather jacket in one quick slide, crowding her to the wall. His lips worried her neck, and the barest scrape of teeth was rare and spine-tingling. She moved to work the buttons of his suit jacket, but he took her by the wrists, (long, _strong_ fingers) and pushed them over her head, other hand running up and down her chest. He squeezed her breasts, still compressed under the tank by her sports bra, not really picking one or the other, and ran down the flat of her stomach, to the small of her back. He brought her towards him, pressed her to his strong chest, as his lips blazed on the underside of her chin, her head thrown back, moaning lightly as he pulled her jacket about down to her elbows. That was where it stopped. She had the hazy thought of _Kinky_ , but the electric shock that ran through her was not arousal.

It was literal electricity. From a stun gun.

Everything suddenly made sense, but she couldn’t remember what as she fell unconscious.

The Wanderer woke up all of five minutes later with a bruise on her thigh from hitting the floor, but otherwise, the way everything was when she left it. First thing she did was grab her guns. Second thing was to ensure the room was empty, reengage the deadbolt. Third was to check the time- which led her into fourth, figure out what the fuck happened. Her Pip-Boy was sitting on the Notes section- a reminder about Adams Air Force Base she was headed to after a night in Tenpenny Tower.

She remembered what made sense.

Green eyes, from a restricted gene pool.

A tooth chipped by a powerfist.

Lack of scars, from full-body armor.

Interest in Brotherhood activities.

Where one acquires a plasma rifle.

The guy was Enclave, and he knew the plan for Adams.


End file.
